


What if I say I do?

by stripped-down-to-skeletons (and_the_devil_laughs)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, I'm so sorry, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Pining, not too many warnings for this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_the_devil_laughs/pseuds/stripped-down-to-skeletons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s the problem? Dan doesn’t see any problem. Except that maybe, proposing to his girlfriend was a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome all! Here I am contributing to the Phandom in the form of sin. I'm sorry, I don't mean to write these things, but then you're friends prompt you and then you just get carried away. If you found this searching for yourself or a loved one, please turn back or risk permanent damage to your eyes. It's not too graphic or sad but it isn't a good thing for you to see regardless.
> 
> On a final note, I've been going through ALL of my unfinished fictions and completing them one by one. This is now my official focus, so expect semi frequent updates! I also post this to my fanfic tumblr at fizzy-punk.tumblr .com, in case you want to help me out with a like/reblog!
> 
> Enjoy!

How long does it take to choose a damn shirt? Between the casual tee shirt to the ungodly internet toss-up of meme-loving ones, ties and suits versus something a lot less I must speak in complete sentences and always address you with a title, Sir. Something nice but not disproportional to a relatively and assumedly natural, normal, uneventful day. Triteness. But with some flair.

   Flair is what happens when something goes pop, a celebration, or, even better yet, a reason to celebrate, which, as far as fortune goes (or at least he would hope), Dan would be having the reason to do so in just a few short hours. Well, a long amount of hours, considering it was only 9 AM and he was going to be proposing to Erin at 8.

  That is entirely right, he’s off to bend over onto one knee and ask Erin to spend the rest of his natural life with him. That’s right. He stared into the mirror and fixes his hair and presses his lips, letting the anxiety filled oxygen out from his nose, as he was hard-pressed to keep his face looking decent and not utterly horrified.

  The small brown box that he was entirely and physically aware of seemed to tug on his pockets, weighing against his thigh like a dense rock. Another look in the mirror and he discovered that he hated wearing the crew neck. Too bland and brown, not enough Dan in it. He might as well settle for galaxies and cats. It was just him.

  Changed, fidgeting albeit, Dan managed to ignore himself long enough to dress well enough for the day and kept his panicking down to a low burn.

  He woke up late, at least by his own standards, and by some miracle Phil was also up, relatively early (by Dan’s standards as well). Although bleak and raining, the house was pretty damn cozy and inviting, and Phil was so excited.

  “And he’s up!” Phil announced, catching over his shoulder a glimpse of Dan, and smiling. “I was really worried for a bit there,” he continued. Just what was he getting at, hovering over the stove?

  Dan took a seat at the table, pulling out his phone from the pocket not carrying a wedding band. “Oh really? Liar, I bet you were so excited to have the house to yourself. How long have you been up?”

  Twitter and it’s constant notifications sprung brightly onto Dan’s face, and Phil was humming, stopping shortly to say, “Only 8:50,” and then went back to a tune that Dan was blessed to not hear vocalized. Way out of Phil’s talent zones, definitely.

  “Riveting. Ten pushups says you won’t have a repeat of this and this is just a miraculous and cosmic fluke that happens once in a generation.”

   “Deal. Can’t wait to see you eat floor ten times.”

  “Hmm.” Dan’s stomach flipped a bit. Oh, right – food, nerves, and a proposal. Smashing combination. He wanted to throw up in the middle of the kitchen.

  Clinking, clinking, a scrape, a wet and sticky pop, and Phil sniggered a bit. Dan’s eye were glued to the screen, rolling past hundreds of people confessing their short-lived, intensified love for him. Some bad things too, but he scrolled past those even faster. Phil was at his side and sat down a plate.

  “Sweets for my sweet,” Phil said, and Dan looked up at him. His eyes were smiling and sparkling and he looked so happy – proud, resting his hand on the back of Dan’s seat.

   Flapjacks and cereal, and really nice flapjacks and a lot of cereal. “Oh my god, thank you.”

   It wasn’t exactly a giggle. It was such a warm, small laugh. “It came out so well.”

  Dan can’t exactly control himself when food good enough and in an amount that would please the gods is in front of him. He could actually feel the tension let loose of his guts and enjoy what Phil prepared, and it felt like a good ole fashioned day at home.

  They were gone in a matter of minutes, and Phil smiled at him when he looked up. It happened sort of instantaneously, Dan didn’t plan it or necessarily want it, but found himself saying it and saying it with a voice he didn’t normally have. Nervous and quiet and desperately, he opened his mouth with hesitation. “Hey, Phil?”

   “… yes?” Phil knew to stop eating and took initiative by lowering his food-speared fork.

  Dan looked down and then up and back again, not sure whether or not to rest his eyes on any one particular area. “Well, see, the thing is – I am not quite sure how to phrase this or where to begin, and it doesn’t do me a lot of good not to say it and it’s not like you’re going to find out about it, not that I’d keep it from you, but it’s very important and needs to be handled –”

  “Oh my god, just say it,” Phil cut in, and it was pretty obvious that he was getting worked up by Dan rambling, alertness building up in his eyes and ready to make him react. Bracing.

   “I’m going to ask Erin to marry me.” It came out a long strand and not quite as separate words. Phil would have dropped his fork if he hadn’t already set it down, and suddenly the silence was overbearingly present. Maybe Phil didn’t hear him? Maybe he had spoken too quietly and Phil was staring at him, gaping slightly, because he was waiting.

  But time picked up the rhythm and Phil’s entire face was smiling, unkempt hair poking about at odd angles, white undershirt wrinkled and very slept on – Dan smiled back, but couldn’t figure out why it felt so wrong, why Phil’s eagerness wasn’t contagious.

  “Oh my god… Dan, are you serious?” Dan nodded at this, and Phil cupped his mouth with his hand because he was smiling too much. “Oh… oh, I’m so happy for you guys! “

   “Aren’t you getting ahead of this whole thing? I still have to ask, don’t you remember? Which, by the way, is what I’m doing tonight. At 8PM sharp. Oh, Jesus, at eightfuckingo’clock.”

  Phil wiped at his eyes and it didn’t do a lot to keep them from running overboard, just a bit. “Hey, don’t even start on that – of course she’ll be coming over to the dark side! She loves you, and she’ll say yes, and oh, oh! Oh!” – Dan’s eyes couldn’t really have gotten bigger, and Phil couldn’t keep himself from bouncing in his seat— “You’re going to have a wedding and –”

   “HEY, no, no way – don’t even try to rope me into something big, I can see it in your eyes, and it’s not going to be like that. No one will know, for Christ’s sake, it’d be treated like a public event if that were going to happen and fuck me if I’m letting paparazzi hijack my wedding. No. No one, no one, is coming to this who isn’t absolutely necessary. You should be so lucky to be on that list.”

“But I can help you guys, right?”

“It’s going to be so lowkey I doubt it’ll need much help, but yeah, why not?“

Phil picked up his food again. “Oh, I’m already on the list, by the way.”

“Of course.”

“I’m so excited.”

Dan couldn’t quite mimic Phil’s enthusiasm. “Me too.”


	2. There may not be a right answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does it feel so wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un betaed. Sue me.

It was a hell of a nice restaurant, that’s for sure. Maybe enough to tip someone off, seeing as Dan was the type of person to order in or, at his fanciest, go to Taco Bell or something disastrously lowkey that it hardly qualifies as a date.

Yeah, bad idea, he thought, fidgeting with the cutlery laid out before him. The atmosphere was so horribly highbrow that he wanted to vomit – maybe it was nerves, also, because couldn’t they turn on the damn A/C? In any case, it was way too much, and Erin probably knew something serious was going to happen, because she left more than five minutes before their drinks arrived and he was already running dry.

And look, food is coming, which he graciously had to accept on his own. Fml, he thought, taking a bite and then choking a bit when he realized how rude it was to start without your date. It didn’t matter, his hands were shaking too much to be useful at the moment. He could wait, and it would give him the time to rehearse what he half-forgot. Great start. He rolled his eyes mostly to himself.

He didn’t have much time to think, though. Erin ran a hand along his back and kissed his ear, and he was pretty proud of the fact that he didn’t jump from surprise. He grabbed her hand and kissed it gently, as well as she deserves, because he knew how she probably saw how uncomfortable he was. She had a habit of sneaking up behind him and snaking her arms around his waist or neck or whatever was convenient.

He was so lucky. He felt something like confidence steady him, and laughed. “Look at all this food,” he said, nodding his head toward god’s feast. “I’ll have you know that I waited for you so you could savor it in all its glory and perfection.”

   “Oh, look at you, you nerd, I was literally gone for two minutes!” Her giggle lingered in his ears because it was so brassy, even when she took a seat across him. She had an informality rule in general – nothing regal or obnoxious or blatantly fancy – so it just made since that she was wearing her red hair down, and her outfit consisting of jeans and a DanandPhilGames logo tee, which was just weird for him to look at whenever she wore it. She was cute, don’t get him wrong, but oh my god it’s like product placement on his girlfriend.

   Neither of them looked like the poster models for such a nice establishment. They caught some eyes from couples who didn’t know how to not stare, and wow was he stalling, because Erin was raising a curious eyebrow to him.

   He took a bite of – what the hell is in this meat? It was unfamiliar and he forgot the name of the dish but it was great. “Hmmm, this is… surprisingly not horrible. Heh… how about yours? I bet your regretting a boring salad when you could be having mystery meat. Oh yeah, look at that prime meat, right there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, me and a poor salad with bacon on it. I’m just suffering. Really, Dan, focus on your own food.” Her Scottish accent wasn’t as strong as most people expect, but it showed when she didn’t focus on not sounding as thick, just like now, and it was pretty clear she was nervous about what was about to happen.

 He sighed, because any plans he had had were wiped from his goldfish memory the moment he thought about what he was doing, why they were sitting in a formal dining room with stuffy people and an alleged dress code that got the head waiter making passes at them every five minutes.

   He grimaced slightly, straightening his posture because he was always slouching, and Phil always whined about  it to him. Good presentation, he remembered.

“Okay, so, Erin.”

   Her lips were pressed and she was obviously chewing. Nice timing. He laughed, and it sounded as nervous as he was. “Okay, so, you know, take a moment, and I really want you to assess how much you’re invested in small talk. I’m going to go ahead and guess that you are pretty much aware that I have something to talk to you about and would love for me to not run my mouth about how horrified I am about not knowing what the hell this meat is.”

   “… go on,” she raised her eyebrow. Her complexion wasn’t ghastly pale, but it was by no means tan. She had a few tiny freckles, but she got off pretty well with being a red-head, all things considered.

   Flush shows up fairly on such delicate skin.

   Dan leaned in enough, locking their eyes.  “Erin, I… I love you. I do. Whatever you see in me, I’m so thankful for it, because we’ve had a good year, and none of it would have been possible if you hadn’t taken a chance on a stranger. I didn’t really expect to fall in love with a girl on the subway. I wasn’t looking for it, but it came, and so we’re here and I’m still running my mouth because I’m winging it.” Dan’s cheeks burned and he was pretty sure he’d literally catch fire from them. “Well, I, I’m not doing a great job now, so, um…”

   He reached into his pocket and pulled the box from it, fingering it below the table and watching Erin for signs of distress. She was holding her breath, and her lips were tense and she was trying really hard not to blink, as if she was going to miss the whole point by momentarily closing her eyes. Dan saw a lot more than just her, though – he looked into her brown eyes and wondered if it was the right time to figuratively get onto a knee and ask for her hand in marriage.

He laughed a bit, nervously like he does, and gave her the box to open. Her hands weren’t quite stable either, so he took some comfort in that.

She opened the box and stared, not like she was shocked, but like her mouth was too parched to make syllables.

Really, the owner should really invest in a working AC unit because holy hell was it hotter than Satan’s briefs. “Will you marry me?”

   “No.”

   He didn’t realize how hot and blazing his heart was, racing in his veins, until it stopped, and the heat was replaced by an arctic ice in the pit of his stomach.

   Erin rolled her eyes, shaking and laughing and crying a bit. “Oh my god, you believed that? You goof, you’re getting married!” And a pause.“ I’m getting married!”

   And there it was, sinking in and finally taking hook, and Dan hadn’t quite recovered before she scooted her chair and sat herself on his lap. She nearly strangled him with her hair, and they were asked to leave because of how unruly they were.

Come midnight, and a cab ride up to his front door, Dan walked to the front step of the townhouse, alone and very quiet. Dan didn’t knock on his own residence because, aside from it being his, Phil was probably asleep. He never liked waking him by accident.

He was wrong, because Phil was sitting on the stairs and Dan knew very well that he must have been waiting there for hours. For Christ sake, it was midnight, what was he thinking? God was he tired. He got out a few words that, yes, he was an engaged man.

   Erin said yes, obviously, but he didn’t have the energy to have a whole conversation about it. Phil could wait.

   Dan prayed as he often did, quietly, and did so that he hoped his expression didn’t betray how shocked he was. He grinned, taking off his jacket, shrugging it off because it was suddenly strangling him. He was hoping that Phil might at least let him sleep before going on about his engagement.

    Phil couldn’t keep control of himself. “Oh my god! Ohmygodohmy—Dan! You’re getting married!”

   Dan rolled his eyes, scooting past a very rude Phil who didn’t quite realize that he was heading upstairs. “Oh god, you’re such a fangirl, Phil. I swear.”

   Dan avoided talking about anything with the classic, “I need a shower” excuse. Phil followed him upstairs, hands on his back because he was way too impatient and excited. Somewhere between fake running a shower and lying in bed with only his bedside lamp on, something unpleasant nagged at him.

Worse than anxiety, different than sadness – something very, very wrong. For the life of him, he couldn’t place the word that would explain it, or what it does, or why. It feels a lot like shattered ice looks, and it was utterly familiar.

   He crossed his hands on his stomach. He hadn’t bothered to change, and laid in bed in his cat tee shirt and black jeans and he felt that they went over pretty well. A tux wouldn’t have done, and it wouldn’t have kept them from getting patronizingly yet gently asked toleave the residence so that you won’t feel uncomfortable.

   Erin was at her parent’s house, as those were her plans before he asked her to spend eternity with him. He was already missing her. He was already thinking about how small eternity really is. He was also thinking about the radio show, and how he had forgotten about it in his marital shuffle the past week or so.

When he pulled out his phone, he could feel the weight in his face that was starting to feel more like a frown than anything. He didn’t even try social media, all of the people trying to talk to him and harass him and ask the same questions over and over. He really just wasn’t in the mood to deal with _P_ han at the moment, and did the only thing he could think of as entertaining: Crossy Road.

   Dan heard Phil walk up to his door, hesitating before—

   Knock knock. Knock, knock, knock –rat a tat tat, tat –

   “Holy lord, fucking shit, Phil, okay, yeah, come in!” Dan whined, and he had all the reason in the world because he dropped his phone onto his face. “You just got ran over, I hope you know,” Dan snapped, sitting up on one elbow and shaking his device in the general direction of his intruder.

   Phil opened the door and half shut it behind him. “That happens all the time. I’ve killed myself at least… five.”

   Dan snorted. They spend a lot of time talking about Crossy Roads, and even though he was feeling as friendly as a cactus, he was lonelier than he would like to admit. “Five? Really? Just five?”

   Phil smiled, and it was dark but it was pretty obvious that he had something on his mind. His smile held back, just a bit, and he was holding his hands awkwardly in front of him. “Well, yeah.” He was in sleeping clothes, nothing distinct except for them being purple and black and the lighting was truly ridiculous because that was all Dan could make out. He needed a new lamp if all he could take from staring at Phil was that he was clothed.

   “So, hey, I was thinking – ”

   “Oh no—”

   Dan was hit by his own pillow. “I was thinking, what were you two going to do for, you know, a wedding? I mean, like, are you going to tweet –”

   “No. Absolutely not. No publicity.”

   “Okay, okay, I figured. But, like, you said I could help, right?”

   Dan automatically rolled his eyes, hardly knowing that he does it. “Of course,” and he was sitting up, turning off his phone but holding it on his lap because it was more comfortable that way. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Erin is going to do a lot of it, most of it, really, but still. You should really talk to her about it, don’t you think?”

   Phil nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed, tucking his hands between his knees because Dan’s room was somehow colder than the rest of their flat. “Well, yeah, I guess,” and his eyes were right with his hands, low. “I was actually going to ask about that? I, well…”

   “Yes?” Dan’s voice was absolutely not an octave higher than normal.

   “I don’t know why I’m thinking this and you have completely all the right to throw all the pillows you want at me, but, um… are you sure you want to get married?”

   Dan laughed loudly. Unexpectedly loudly. “Oh my god, Phil!”

Phil smiled softly. Dan didn’t know why he didn’t look convinced. Of what, he had yet to reason out.

“Okay, okay. But, still, okay, so… oh, god, whatever – what were you thinking about me…”

“Of course you’re my best man. Don’t be thick.”

Phil tried very hard not to shriek. “Oh my –”

“Don’t let this go to your head, now, or else—”

Dan had little defense when Phil wanted to hug him – and that’s what Phil did, because he had no impulse control, and was already flinging himself at Dan.

Dan has the worst relationship with gravity, as many chairs are aware of—perched on one hand, he toppled back onto his sheets. “Oh jesus get off of me,” he groaned from underneath Phil, forcing himself to sit up with Phil’s arms loosely circling his neck.

“My god, you shouldn’t really have this much energy at fucking one in the AM,” Dan complained, though he was grinning, and Phil pulled away and they were close enough for Dan to see the details of his face.

He was not crying.

Dan was not touched about how happy Phil was.

They were not still hugging and emotionally overwhelmed.

“Oh!”

“Yes? Did you have your first thought.”

Normally, Phil would have punched him for that. “No! I just realized that I get to write a speech!”

“Yes, that’s the normal thing the best man would do.”

Abruptly, Phil was standing – restlessly – holding his hands out in front of him in a just wait gesture. “Okay! So! I, uh, definitely should work on that –”

“What, now?”

“—and I don’t know when you’re getting married but I should be ready! Okay! Night, get some sleep—” he was at the door, “— and for heaven’s sake, get dressed and take a real shower!”

Dan’s mouth went dry. The door was shut, yet he wast still staring at it as if he were expecting something grand to happen.

Dan felt the quiet surround him again, speechless, and the night settled in without a single grand gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Support the author with comments and kudos bc i need the attention.


End file.
